"No--not exactly," he replied with an evil, triumphant grin. "But, really, my dear sir," he added, "I've had a very long journey, and I'm tired. Is it any use prolonging this argument?" "Not unless you wish!" I snapped. "I have given you full warning of my intention to reveal the whole affair to the police." "Ah! Then that will be very unfortunate--for you," replied the queer old man; "and for your wife most of all." "Yes, I know. You intend to bring disaster upon me and upon her if I dare to go to Scotland Yard!" I cried. In my ignorance of the truth I believed my threats would be of avail. Ah, had I but known the actual facts, how differently would I have acted! But surely that enigma was one that was beyond human power to elucidate. Upon every hand I found complications. Plot lay within plot--all directed against myself and against poor innocent Mabel, who had flown to me on receipt of what she had believed to be my urgent telegram. "My intentions, Mr. Holford, entirely depend upon your actions," said Kirk, very plainly. "If you are foolish--well, then I cannot guarantee the safety of your wife. My advice to you, however, is to recall all I told you, believe in the truth of my statements, and act with slow discretion." "But my wife?" I cried. "I must--I will save her. She is in peril, I am sure of that!" "She may be in grave peril if you go to the police," he said enigmatically; "and, believe me, they cannot assist us in the least to discover who killed Professor Greer." "Why?" Kirk hesitated. In that pause I scented an intention further to prevent me from speaking. "Well, regard the matter calmly and without prejudice," he said at last. "As a matter of fact, what evidence is there that the Professor is dead?" "Evidence!" I cried. "Why, did not you and I see him dead? Did not his daughter stand before his lifeless body?" "Ah, she would never tell what she saw!" he said, with a mysterious smile. "Why not?" I asked, much surprised at his remark. But my mysterious neighbour only shrugged his shoulders vaguely, answering: "There is a reason why she will never admit his death--a strong reason." "Well," I said, "I recovered from the ashes of the furnace certain remains--coat buttons and other scraps of clothing." "And you think they would be accepted as evidence that Professor Greer was done to death?" he laughed. "You are evidently unaware of the great caution exercised by the Criminal Investigation Department in accepting any evidence such as that which you could furnish. No," he added, "only Antonio and Ethelwynn were the actual witnesses, in addition to ourselves, of the Professor's tragic end. And as they refuse to admit that he is dead, any information you may lodge at Scotland Yard must only reflect upon yourself and bring greater peril upon Mrs. Holford. I simply tell you the truth--believe me, or believe me not." "Well," I exclaimed, "I disbelieve you, Mr. Kirk."